


my heart's made up my mind

by alrightamanda



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alrightamanda/pseuds/alrightamanda
Summary: Jon just has to get through this two-hour flight from Chicago to Des Moines. If only there wasn't already someone in his seat.
Relationships: Jon Favreau/Jon Lovett
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	my heart's made up my mind

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Effy for edits and the title!  
This is a work of fiction and the subjects do not need to know about it.  
I've messed with canon slightly for plot purposes so bear with me.  
Title is from Celine Dion's "Next Plane Out"  
Enjoy!

There is nothing Jon wants more than to sit. 

It’s only 6PM and he’s already been up for fourteen hours. He has a two hour flight to Des Moines from Chicago ahead of him and maybe he can get his anxiety down enough to get a power nap in before he has to hit the ground running in Iowa. 

The plane is late coming in from D.C. and they’re warned by the gate attendant to be mindful of the overhead luggage of the people from the D.C. flight who aren’t deplaning in Chicago. Jon is lucky enough to be in an early boarding group and he makes it onto the plane with little difficulty. 

At least, there’s little difficulty until he reaches his row and finds someone already asleep in his seat. 

The guy in his seat has the tray-table down with his head pillowed in his crossed arms. His closely-cropped dark curls peak out beneath the beanie he has tugged over his head. 

He checks his ticket twice more before nudging the shoulder of the sleeping man, “Hey, I think you’re in my seat, man.”

The guy jerks up, eyes wide and chest heaving, and Jon rears back in shock at the sudden movement, ‘_ note to self: don’t do that again,’ _ he thinks as he takes in the man before him. He’s about Jon’s age, maybe a little younger, with a look that screams “Hill Staffer”. He looks younger than he probably is, with his high cheeks, deep brown eyes, and shockingly full lips that offset his strong brow and jawline. ‘ _ He’s cute,’ _ Jon thinks to himself, unbidden. 

“What?”

Jon shakes himself out of his musings and the cute guy’s soft eyes and remembers the reason he’s here, “Oh, you’re in my seat. I have the aisle.”

The cute guy narrows his eyes and Jon feels a jolt run up his spine, “No, this is my seat. I’ve been sitting here since I got on this plane in D.C., because it’s my seat. I think I would know if I was sitting in the wrong seat. ”

There’s something about the cute guy that makes Jon want to cave immediately, but he gathers the last bit of energy he has and stands his ground, “I know you’re in my seat because I specifically picked an aisle seat. Not to spill my life story on you, but I don’t like flying and aisle seats make me feel less anxious.”

Jon knows he’s laying it on thick, but he really just wants to sit and he doesn’t want this to end with the cute guy mad at him. If he can’t get any sleep at least he’ll have an interesting seat mate with whom to pass the time. As Jon reaches for his boarding pass to show the cute guy that he is in fact in Jon’s seat, he suddenly rolls his eyes so dramatically it looks painful, unbuckles his belt, and shifts a seat over, leaving the aisle seat free for Jon.

“I’m not saying that you’re right and you do have the aisle seat, but you really have that ‘kicked puppy’ look down pat and you’ve caught me in a moment of exhaustion and weakness. Sit. Before you block the aisle any longer.”

Jon checks behind him and sure enough a line-up of annoyed looking people are waiting to find their seats behind him. He mutters his apologies and shoves his carry on in the overhead bin before sinking into his seat and fastening his belt. 

He glances over at his seat mate checking his email on his blackberry and pulls his own phone out to do the same. After replying to an urgent message from Plouffe and marking the ones he needs to respond to for later he powers off the phone and sighs. 

“So, do you work on the Hill?”

The guy next to him barely looks up from his blackberry as he responds, “Yeah, but I’m working on the democratic primary right now. Me and everyone else flying from D.C. to Des Moines on a Friday night in December.”

Jon can’t help the laugh that escapes him at the guy’s candor. Maybe this flight won’t be so bad after all, “I’m Jon, by the way, but without the ‘h’,” he sticks his hand out for the cute guy to shake, but he surprises Jon by laughing instead.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just that of all the people I could be next to on this flight I’m next to someone also named ‘Jon’ with no ‘h’,” the guy, Other Jon, laughs, and his whole face transforms, dimples coming out and his eyes brightening despite the low plane light.

Jon laughs at the coincidence, “What are the chances, man? Anyway, it’s nice to meet you. So, you’re going to Iowa for the primary?”

“Yeah, I’m there as part of the last of the get out the vote effort before the caucuses. My boss is doing a few more stops around the state so it’s all hands on deck. You?”

Cute Jon puts his blackberry back in his pocket, turning his attention on Jon, “Me too. It’s been such a long primary, I can’t believe it’s almost here.”

“Neither can I. Honestly? I’ve spent more time in Iowa over the past few months than I’ve spent in the Midwest my whole life.”

“Really? My boss’s headquarters are in Chicago but it has been an adjustment from D.C., that’s for sure.”

“Oh, you’re an Obama Bro, are you?” Cute Jon turns in his seat, facing Jon fully and, in a move that speaks to a flexibility that shocks and amazes Jon, crosses his legs under him without breaching the perimeter of the small airplane seat. 

Jon feels a grin start to play on his lips at the teasing tone Cute Jon takes on, “I’ve always been too much of a nerd to be a bro, but yes, I do work for Senator Obama.”

Cute Jon sighs heavily before responding, “It figures that all of the cute guys who are endearingly nerdy and bashful are also Straight Obama Bros. Such is life I suppose.”

Jon giggles at Other Jon’s dramatics and his brown eyes light up at the echoing laughter. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, can you please fasten your seatbelt and stow your tray-tables? We’re preparing for take off.”

Cute Jon uncurls himself to face forward while Jon scrambles to shove his backpack under the seat in front of him and try to temper is growing panic at the thought of taking off. The plane is taxiing and he knows he’s gripping the armrests too tight but he can’t take his meds for such a short flight and he just needs to get his breathing under control and then his heart will stop racing and - 

“Hey, are you okay?” he must not do a good job of hiding it because Other Jon sounds softer than he has at any point in their extremely short acquaintance. 

Jon takes a deep breath, “I don’t like flying. I know that everything is automated now and very little is left for human error but take off and landing are tricky and they really get to me and this was too short of a flight to take any meds for my anxiety and - ”

“Hey. You’re okay. Just match my breathing, okay? That’s it. In and out.”

Other Jon takes slow and audible breaths that Jon works to imitate, his fingers slowly easing up on the armrests. Jon focuses on the measured breathing of this stranger and, much to his surprise, his heartbeat evens out. 

Jon relaxes back into his seat and turns to his seat mate with a look of wonder, “Thanks, man.”

“Of course,” Other Jon replies, a blush creeping up his neck, “We all have our anxieties.”

Jon feels himself getting lost in Other Jon’s eyes when the plane suddenly picks up speed to take off. He closes his eyes and tries to continue the measured breathing but he still tries to get a good grip on the armrest when, suddenly, something much softer and warmer than the armrest grabs his hand back. Jon’s eyes shoot open as he looks at the small fingers of Other Jon gripping his. Other Jon squeezes his hand and entwines their fingers as the plane gains altitude. Jon knows he’s only just met Other Jon and he should be careful not to break his delicate fingers, but he can’t help but hold on like Other Jon is the only thing keeping the plane from plunging into the Mississippi River. 

They both relax as the plane evens out and the Fasten Seatbelts sign turns off, but neither moves to release the other’s hand: Other Jon is softly stroking the back of Jon’s hand with his thumb, and Jon shifts slightly, so their thighs are touching under the armrest. Other Jon starts rummaging in the pocket of the seat in front of him and produces a battered copy of Sky Mall Magazine and starts turning through it with gusto.

“What are you looking for?”

“The sudoku. Maybe the crossword puzzle. If mine have already been scribbled all over, I will be stealing your magazine to see if you have a fresh one. You have been warned.”

“Duly noted,” Jon can’t hide his bemusement at the situation but Other Jon seems unperturbed so he keeps it to himself. 

Other Jon shifts again so he’s sitting cross-legged and sideways in his seat, Sky Mall on his lap, pen behind his ear, and Jon’s hand still holding his. 

“Well the Sudoku is a mess but the crossword is still fairly empty; I don’t usually offer this, but would you like to work on it with me?”

Jon nods so fast he’s worried he has whiplash. 

* * *

“Look, here’s the thing, what use could you possibly have for a pen that is also a toothbrush but cannot get wet and the batteries are sold separately? What good is that doing? Who is buying this shit? Oh yeah! That’s what I need in my routine: an electric toothbrush that can also write! But here’s the catch: _ it can’t get wet! _ How are you supposed to clean it?! Unbelievable! Are the people at Sky Mall just walking around, signing documents, leaving a trail of foamy, half dried toothpaste in their wake? What _ monsters! _It’s insane!”

“And another thing!”

Jon feels his giggles start up again just at the thought of Other Jon continuing his various points about SkyMall’s eclectic array of products. He can’t remember the last time he wasn’t just calm on a flight but genuinely enjoyed himself. Every time Other Jon spoke, Jon listened with rapt attention. Every time Other Jon looked his way, Jon was captivated by his infectious smile. Every time Other Jon squeezed his hand, Jon squeezed back. 

‘_ Maybe this trip won’t be such a drag after all. Maybe Jon will want to meet up while we’re both still in Iowa. Maybe he’ll want to get dinner back in D.C.,’ _ Jon knows he’s getting ahead of himself, but it’s been so long since he felt this attracted to another person - physically, mentally, emotionally, all of it. His attraction could be the plane air talking, but Jon was intrigued when they were still on the ground. When they land and can turn on their phones again, Jon hopes Other Jon will at least give Jon his number. Iowa and D.C. are only so big - if they’re in the same place again then Jon wants to know about it.

* * *

“You know, of all the people on this plane, I’m glad you were the one to sit in my seat.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m still not convinced that is your seat, Jon, I just moved because you were blocking the aisle, and secondly,”

Jon sits back and smiles as he watches Other Jon take the bait and launch into another rant. 

* * *

“What are you going to do when we land?”

“My friend is the Iowa Press Secretary and he’s picking me up and taking me back to headquarters to hit the ground running, I suppose. What about you?”

“Same. No rest for the weary and all that.”

“This primary has really dragged, hasn’t it? I feel like we’ve been debating health care for months even though we all know that it doesn’t matter if we don’t maintain the House and Senate.”

“Look, maybe if your guy wasn’t so against what is clearly the superior idea, implementing an individual mandate, then the debates wouldn’t be so grueling.”

Jon swivels his head to look Other Jon in the eyes, “Oh god, you are a Hillary supporter, aren’t you?”

“And what’s wrong with that? She’s my home-state Senator and a fantastic one to boot! She’s going to be the first female president and she’ll do a great job! And she’s right about healthcare! She learned from the mistakes that were made in trying to implement it when Bill was president. She has more experience than your guy and better understands the struggles of Washington and how to work in the system to make changes! I don’t get why all of you Obama Bros hate her so much!”

“Maybe we don’t like her because when she’s wrong it leads to catastrophe. Or have you forgotten her vote for the Iraq war?”

“I have not forgotten it! I’m from New York, do you really think any of us could ever forget anything about the Iraq war? Get off your high horse and remember how convenient hind-sight is. She’s a fantastic senator and she’ll make a fantastic president. Don’t let your love for Obama blind you to the virtues of his opponent, especially when we’ll all eventually have to unify behind whoever the nominee is to beat the Republican. That’s the most important thing here. Don’t lose track of that, Jon.”

Other Jon’s eyes darken further as his chest heaves. Jon knows neither of them will ever convince the other that they’re wrong, but that doesn’t stop his pulse from racing. Jon only looks away from Other Jon’s blown pupils to glance down at his lips, shiny and red from their argument. His palm is sweaty where their hands are still linked over the armrest. Other Jon’s eyes dart down to Jon’s mouth and time seems to slow as Other Jon leans forward ever so slightly.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

Jon breaks from his reverie as Other Jon crawls over him, definitely pausing over his lap for longer than strictly necessary. He stands in the aisle of the plane and looks down at Jon, still seated, and then down to the growing bulge in Jon’s pants. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Other Jon repeats, and before he breaks eye contact, he licks his lips, bringing his hand to his own growing bugle and casually adjusting it, like he’s not the prettiest thing Jon has ever seen. 

Other Jon walks off to the bathroom and Jon collapses back in his seat. After a minute of barely thinking it over, Jon unbuckles his belt and heads back to the bathrooms. Reaching the door, he knocks and calls out, “Jon?”

The door slides open and a hand grabs his and tugs him into the small stall. Before Jon can even blink a pair of the softest lips he’s ever felt are on his.

“I wasn’t sure if you understood.”

“Well, I’m here, so clearly I understood you fondling yourself in the aisle of an airplane as a sign of something.”

“Shut up. You should be kissing me.”

Jon can’t argue with that. Other Jon’s body is soft and compact beneath his hands and he gets a hand up his shirt as Other Jon leans up to kiss his way down Jon’s neck until he grazes his teeth along Jon’s collarbone, eliciting a soft whimper. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty. Make such pretty noises for me,” Other Jon slides his hands down Jon’s chest stroking the skin at his hips before reaching for Jon’s belt. 

Jon feels like a teenager, hips stuttering as Other Jon brushes his dick through his boxers, “Jon, please.”

“What do you need, baby?”

“Touch me. Please, Jon.”

Other Jon shoves his hand into Jon’s boxers and expertly wraps himself around Jon’s dick, giving a few experimental tugs before he’s pulling Jon’s dick out and sinking to his knees. 

“You don’t have to - ”

“Shut up. You’re the prettiest man to ever look my way and you’re brilliant. Let me do this, please.”

And how is Jon supposed to say no when he’s on his knees, looking up at him like Jon is the best thing he’s ever seen. 

Jon is barely nodding before Other Jon brings his hand up to guide Jon’s dick into his mouth. 

It would be embarrassing how quickly he is tugging at Other Jon’s hair to let him know to pull off if this wasn’t quite possibly the hottest thing to ever happen to him. Other Jon pulls off in time for Jon’s come to hit him in the chin and, wow, if Jon’s knees don’t buckle at the combined force of orgasm and the picture Other Jon makes on his knees, come on his face. 

“Get up. Jon get up here, please, baby, get up here,” Jon knows he’s babbling but he has to kiss Other Jon right now or his heart might give out from the depths of the emotions he’s feeling.

Other Jon stands and Jon pushes him against the bathroom wall, tasting himself on Other Jon’s mouth, working his belt open with one hand. 

“You don’t have to - _ oh, _” Jon would give just about anything to hear Other Jon make that noise again. Jon wraps his hand around Other Jon’s dick more firmly and moves. 

The soft noises coming from Other Jon build and Jon leans down to swallow them for himself. These are for him to know. It’s not the business of anyone else on this plane how Other Jon sounds when Jon has his hands on him. 

“Jon, please,”

“I got you, baby. Let go for me, I got you.”

A cry is ripped from Other Jon as Jon strokes him through his orgasm. Tiny aftershocks rock his small frame and Jon holds him there, against the wall, as they both try to catch their breath. 

“Well, if you asked me what I was doing tonight on my flight from DC to _ Iowa _, I would not have said, ‘hook up with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in a plane bathroom’, that’s for sure.”

Jon can’t help but laugh along at the absurdity. 

* * *

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are beginning our descent into Des Moines, please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing. Thank you and enjoy your stay in Iowa.”

Other Jon shits so he’s facing forward, no longer sideways in his seat so he can look at Jon and continue his tirade against the ridiculousness of SkyMall. Their hands are joined again over the armrest and Jon hopes the roaring in his ears from the sudden pressure change dies down enough for him to ask Other Jon for his number. 

The plane touches down and taxis to the gate. It’s now or never. 

“Hey, I know that we’re headed to different camps, but in the extremely likely scenario that we are in the same city, can I have your number? I’d like to take you to dinner and continue our health care debate. Maybe you can tell me your opinions on airplane food.”

Other Jon turns to him with a wide-eyed look that tugs at Jon’s heartstrings, “You want to go out with me?”

“Yeah, man. I don’t hook up in the bathroom of an airplane with just anyone.”

The beatific smile that breaks across Other Jon’s face allays the anxiety of laying himself bare.

“Yeah. I’d like that. Here,” Other Jon takes the pen he used on the crossword earlier and scribbles his number on Jon’s hand and gives Jon the pen to do the same on his. 

Jon knows he’s smiling like an idiot but he’s never been so excited at the promise of dinner with someone. It feels like something. He looks down at his hand and sees a New York area code number followed by two words: _ Jon Lovett. _

* * *

They say good-bye in baggage claim. Other Jon presses a quick kiss to his lips before promising to call sometime in the next week about getting that dinner. Jon smiles after him as he runs to catch a cab, his number, now safely programmed into his phone, tingling on the back of his hand. 

“Favs! Hey man!”

Jon spins around just in time to avoid Tommy colliding with him., “Hey Tom, how’s it going? How’s Iowa?”

“Great! We’ve all missed you down here. It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too. Chicago isn’t the same without you.”

“That’s what I like to hear! Hey, who was that, by the way? The guy who gave you a cute kiss before running off?”

“Oh that was Jon.”

“His name is also Jon?”

“Yeah, what are the chances, right? We were seated next to each other on the flight and really hit it off. I want to take him out to dinner sometime this week.”

“Wow, you must really like this guy. Must have been quite the impression he made.”

“You have no idea.”

* * *

By the time they make it back to the apartment Tommy is sharing with a few of the other staffers who have made the trek down to Iowa for the caucuses, Jon has truly exposed himself for the lovesick fool he knows he is. 

“And he’s so funny, Tom. I laughed more in the last two hours than I have in two months. I have never felt so relaxed and safe on a flight,” Jon says as he grabs his bag from the trunk and follows Tommy inside. 

“Yes, Jon, you told me.”

“Sorry, I’m just - I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”

“I’m happy for you, man.”

“Why are we happy for Favs?”

“Hey guys!”

Shomik, Mike, and Cody all greet Jon with various versions of a bro hug before collapsing back onto the couch. 

“So, Favs, why are we so happy for you? Besides finally getting your ass down to the corn fields with the rest of us,” Cody ribs at Jon, clearly curious. 

“Well, I think I met someone.”

Jon feels his face heat up at the various exclamations of teasing disbelief; he’s really missed his friends. 

“So where did you meet her and when can we meet her?” Mike asks when they’ve finally calmed down. 

“_ HE _ is in Iowa until the caucuses as well. And I met him on our flight from Chicago, he was connecting from D.C. and we ended up sitting next to each other. We talked the whole time and we exchanged numbers when we landed. We’re going to make plans for dinner sometime this week.”

“Oh? He must be pretty special to have caught your attention mid-flight. What’s his name? Maybe we know him and can get you two together sooner than ‘sometime this week’?” Shomik says, ever practical. 

“His name is Jon and he’s doing work for the Clinton Campaign, and I know it’s weird that both of our names are ‘Jon’ and that they’re the enemy currently but I really like him and - ”

Jon cuts himself off at the looks on his friends’ faces,. “What’s wrong?”

Tommy speaks first, “A Clinton guy? Jon, you can’t date him.”

“Yeah, he’s doing work for Clinton. I know we’re mortal enemies at the moment but - ”

Tommy sighs, cutting Jon off, “Jon, if you start dating a Clinton guy a few weeks before the caucuses, we could have a real scandal on our hands. What if it comes out that you’re dating and someone accuses you two of trading playbooks and other secrets? What happens then, Jon?”

“C’mon Tommy, I really don’t think - ”

“You clearly haven’t been thinking, Favs! We’re trying to get the Senator to the White House and you’re willing to risk your reputation and the reputation of our campaign for a guy? Get it together, man. This so isn’t the time.”

Favs can feel his heart sinking and his stomach rising into his throat, he looks to the others for back-up but they’re all pointedly avoiding eye contact, “But - ”

“Favs, look, no Clinton staffer is worth everything we’re trying to build here. Don’t ruin it just because you have a crush.”

Jon’s eyes burn and his throat closes as Tommy claps a hand on his shoulder, signifying the end of the conversation. 

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Jon’s phone suddenly rings, jolting everyone out of their stupor. He pulls the phone out and sees a familiar New York area code flashing on the screen. 

“Is that him?” Tommy asks from the couch. 

Jon’s voice is stuck in his throat but he manages a stilted nod. 

“Don’t answer it, Jon. It’s better this way.”

Jon watches as it rings and rings before finally going quiet. 

* * *

_ “Hey, Jon! I know we just saw each other at the airport but I’m pretty free at the moment and I was wondering if you wanted to get pizza? If not, that’s okay, but let me know!” _

* * *

_ “Hey Jon, it’s me, Jon - that feels weird to say, but anyway! Sorry we missed each other in Des Moines, but I know the Obama camp is in Cedar Rapids right now, and I was wondering if you wanted to get together for dinner? I should be free around 9 tonight so give me a call! Talk to you soon!” _

* * *

_ “Hey, Jon. Haven’t heard from you and I’m just making sure you’re okay. Call me back.” _

* * *

_ “I know that we’re both in New Hampshire for the debate, because I just saw you look at your phone and send me to voicemail in this staff holding room, and it’s fine if you didn’t feel the same way I do, but you could have at least told me that before I made a fool of myself. Just delete my number, okay? Bye.” _

* * *

Jon keeps the messages and the number. 

He keeps them after they stop coming. After they lose New Hampshire and win South Carolina. He keeps them all the way through the convention and the general. He keeps them into the transition office, where he sits for hours everyday, reading through anonymous applications to be the last speechwriter on the Obama team. 

* * *

“Hey can you help me with something?” Jon calls out as he sees Dan pass his office. 

Dan steps into the closet Jon has made his own, “What’s up?”

“I’ve narrowed the applications down to two candidates but I was hoping for some help in deciding. Could you read over both of them? Just to have a fresh set of eyes.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dan takes both of the applications and quickly reads through them, eyes flitting across the pages. 

After about ten minutes of silence Dan hands one of the applications back to Jon, “Have your assistant call this one. I’d like to meet him first and if he’s what we’re looking for, I’ll hire him, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah go for it. I’m swamped with Inaugural stuff so have at it.”

“I’ll let you know what I think.”

“Thanks, Dan.”

* * *

“Hey, Favs! That speechwriter I interviewed is great. I’m going to offer him the job and get his clearances started.”

“Thanks, Dan. I really appreciate it. Who did it end up being?”

“You’ll never believe this, but it ended up being Clinton’s speechwriter, Jon Lovett. I know we’re still enemies but we have to build some bridges now that Senator Clinton will be Secretary Clinton and he’s very funny and I think he’ll fit right in with the rest of the team.”

Jon barely hears Dan over the sound of roaring in his own ears. _ Jon Lovett is the new speechwriter on his team. Fuck. _

* * *

Things aren’t as awkward as they could have been. Lovett, as the rest of the staff calls him, fits well with the rest of the team. He’s like the missing piece to the puzzle they’ve been working on ever since Obama first ran for Senate. It’s not long until Lovett is moving in with Tommy, Mike, and Cody and it’s like he’s always been a part of the gang. 

Jon is miserable. 

Every day he’s reminded about why he fell so hard and fast for Lovett on that plane. The way he pulls laughs out of Jon, the way he curls up in his chair at his desk, the way he turns every little thing into a rant or an argument. If Jon couldn’t get Lovett out of his head before, he’s all Jon thinks about now. _ Work. Eat. Sleep. Lovett. _ He’s so close and yet Jon knows Lovett isn’t his. He isn’t Jon’s and that’s Jon’s fault. His guilt over never calling Lovett back haunts his dreams in congruence with the memory of Lovett pressed against him making the sweetest little sounds as Jon pulled an orgasm from him. 

Jon knows Lovett isn’t his and that it’s no one’s fault but his own. 

* * *

They’re all out for drinks one night after work when Lovett stumbles up to Jon at the bar and fixes him with a look that freezes Jon in his tracks. 

“You know,” Lovett says in a faux conversational tone, "if you didn’t want to be with me there were better ways of letting me down than becoming my boss.”

Jon feels his blood run cold at Lovett’s words, “Lovett, I - ”

“I get it, Favs. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, and I like our working relationship just fine, but you didn’t have to be cruel about it. I liked you a lot and it would have been nice to at least be let down in person and not just be ghosted until you hire me for the White House.”

“Lovett, - ”

“It’s okay, Jon. I just wanted to say that before I let it fester for too long. I’m going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Lovett doesn’t wait for Jon’s response before he’s booking it away from Jon and out of the bar. 

“Where did Lovett rush off to?” Tommy asks, appearing suddenly at Jon’s elbow.

“Home, I think.”

“Hmm. I better check on him. You okay to wrap things up here?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow, Tommy.”

Jon says his good-byes and walks out into the chilly March air, heart heavy and eyes burning. 

* * *

“Hey. Are you free?”

Jon startles at the sound of Lovett’s voice at his office door. It’s 7AM on a Saturday and Lovett doesn’t usually make an appearance at the office until at least 9AM. 

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Lovett sidles into the office and closes the door behind him, locking it. 

Jon raises his brows at the action but Lovett is already jumping onto Jon’s desk, perched on a stack of papers that are probably important and shouldn’t have an adult sitting on them. 

“So I talked to Tommy last night.”

“Oh?” Jon replies without looking up from the notes he’s trying to make. 

“Yeah, he told me this really weird story about how I looked so depressed and the last time he saw someone this depressed it was after he picked you up from the airport in Des Moines and you were going on and on about how in love you were with this guy and you didn’t care that he worked for Clinton. But Tommy convinced you that dating a Clinton guy was a bad idea so he stopped you from answering the guy’s calls or calling him back. He just kept talking about how sad you looked all the time and that I looked just as sad and that he didn’t want to overstep his bounds but maybe I should talk to you about it because clearly we have so much in common, both of us clearly heartbroken. Very weird story to hear when you’re drunk.”

Jon can barely see the words on the page in front of him, “Wow, that is a weird story.”

Lovett grabs the pen from Jon’s hands and uses it to tilt Jon’s head up from the pages so he can look him in the eye, “Jon, why didn’t you answer my calls?”

“I wanted to. The second I got to Tommy’s place I wanted to call you and take you out to dinner that night and the next night and the night after that, for as long as you would let me. But I let the guys get into my head and they started talking about scandals and PR and every other thing and I freaked out. I’m so sorry Lovett, I’m so sorry that I hurt you and I know that you’ve probably moved on but I’d give anything to have another chance, I - ”

Jon’s speech is cut short by a familiar pair of lips on his. Soft and warm and sending jolts up and down Jon’s spine. 

Lovett breaks away and Jon lets out a soft whine at the loss of contact, “Jon, I’m so into you it’s stupid. And I’d really like it if you took me out for that dinner you owe me.”

Jon doesn’t stop a grin from breaking across his face as he pulls Lovett into his lap, and kisses him for what definitely won’t be the last time. 

“Anything you want.”

* * *


End file.
